Teaching art to students with autism

An art teacher posted a request to our facebook wall, asking for input from others who are teaching art to students with autism. I'll start the discussion with some of the methods I have used over the years and found to be effective in one-to-one and group teaching situations.

One of the major challenges for all teachers of students with autism (regardless of the subject matter) is getting past the severe communication deficits that are typical of this diagnosis. In a usual classroom setting, the teacher can stand at the front of the class, give information and directions, and have a reasonable expectation that their students will understand what's been presented. Students with autism will generally learn poorly or not at all under these conditions - the verbal information goes by too quickly and is often drowned in a sea of background noise - even when the words are heard clearly, their meaning may not be understood (because of gaps in language knowledge).

If you want to teach a person with autism effectively, you would do better to "show" more than you "tell". Rather than filling the air with verbal explanations, put information into visual format and then model what you would like the student to do. If you are chatty by nature, damp it down - speak in single words and short phrases backed up by your visual pictures and modeling - think of your words as stones dropping one by one into a pond, with lovely silence in the in-between time as the ripples go out and the ASD student can think about what you said.

Art is a perfect subject for this type of approach - you are teaching visual and hand-eye coordination skills that are only imperfectly described by verbal language in the first place. A book that I would highly recommend is Mona Brookes' "Drawing with Children" (and the follow-up book "Drawing for Older Children & Teens"). In the initial chapters of the "Drawing with Children" book, Mona describes a method for teaching classes of young children to draw what they see - she draws a picture step-by-step, describing what she is drawing, and the children draw each line and shape as she does. I have used a variation of this "follow me" style of art teaching for many ASD students of varying levels. One major difference, compared to the method described in the book, involves the language level - talk less than is suggested, and use words that name and describe the pieces of what you are drawing (rather than the shapes and angles). The other major difference is that you will get better results, and a calmer happier student, if you (or another adult model) sit side-by-side with the ASD student, modeling the drawing or painting or sculpting, letting them control the pace of incoming information (don't start modeling a new step until they have completed the step before).

Another type of resource I would recommend for art teaching are the books that use pictures and words to give step-by-step visual instructions for art projects. Ed Emberley (children's author and illustrator) is terrific at this, and he has published many books that lay out visual stepwise instructions for how to draw almost anything. The first time that Adam learned how to draw something from someone other than me, was sitting side-by-side in his school classroom with an adult volunteer (who was an artist herself), drawing animals in a "follow me" mode, using an Ed Emberley "learn to draw" book as a reference for both of them.

Here is an example of an early picture that Adam drew using an Ed Emberley book on drawing animals for reference, with me sitting beside him providing a step-by-step model in the "follow me" format:

note: using this method, Adam drew a much more detailed picture than his usual style

- gradually, his own drawing style matured to match the skills he was learning in this context -

You can find out more about Ed Emberley (including an extensive book list) at his website: www.edemberley.com .

Other books that explore different art media and techniques, and are great for visual instructions, include "Fun with Modeling Clay" by Barbara Reid (children's illustrator famous for her plasticine sculpted pictures), "How to Make Pop-Ups" by Joan Irvine (paper sculpting) and the many books in the Klutz publishing line that show kids how to do various craft techniques. In addition, you can now find some good visual instructions at various sites online (love that Google search!), and I would also recommend searching YouTube for "how-to" videos on various art/craft, cooking and sewing skills and projects. If you are ambitious, you can make your own customized visual instructions (picture/written or video) - with advances in digital cameras, this is much easier now than it was even a few years ago.

A few last notes for those of you teaching multiple students at one time:

If you are teaching a class of ASD students, make sure the number of students is small, so that you do not get ahead of the slowest person (nothing stresses out a person with ASD like time pressure). Have visual instructions at each student's spot, and make sure that your model is close enough that all students can see the details (be prepared to re-model trickier or more intricate steps). You may want to have extra adults beside students who are more severely involved (and more likely to get stressed by missing information given from a distance). If you have an ASD student integrated into a regular art class, you can use a similar method (with an adult sitting beside the ASD student and modeling the art project using a step-by-step visual method) - this will be most effective if you and the adult support person can get together before each class to ensure that they understand how to do the art project themselves (nothing more panic-producing for an adult than finding out "in the moment" that they don't know how to do the thing they are supposed to be teaching).

I welcome input on this topic from teachers of art (and other subjects) - please join the discussion and share methods that you have "field tested" and found to be useful.

Look forward to hearing from you!

Sheila B



No, that is not our website

Those of you who may have tried to visit our website over the past week will have noticed that the site looks very different - that's because it's not us. Due to technical problems beyond our control, the website is temporarily offline. We do not endorse any of the information found at our address at the moment. Our webmaster is sorting through the difficulties, and we will let you know when the real site is back up and running.

Thanks for your patience ........ Sheila Bell

When boys and girls become women and men

Last week during our session, Adam was suffering terribly from his allergies. He was almost non-verbal, and his sensory reactions had him jumping out of his skin. I asked him a "visual" question (drawing myself looking concerned with a speech bubble that said "Adam, how are you feeling today?" and leaving a space for him to add himself into the picture). And then he surprised me. For the first time, he drew himself as an adult man (beard and all):

He's been taller than all of us, and sporting varying degrees of facial hair growth for quite a few years now, but up until now, he has always drawn himself as a boy of varying height ... if the situation pictured was one where he was confused or in distress or in trouble, he would draw himself as both younger and smaller than the adults.

Here is an example - a picture that Adam drew (to help him sort out his distress over the fact that he got in trouble for fiddling around with scissors in class) when he was 17 years old and well over six feet tall. The other person in the picture is a female staff person who in real life was at least a foot shorter than Adam ... but not according to Adam's inner perception ... she was the adult who made the rules, and he was the small boy who broke a rule he didn't know existed:

Last week's self-portrait shows us that Adam is finally starting to view himself as an adult, a significant advance ... a change that crystallized a topic that I've been thinking a lot about lately. What kind of adult life waits for the growing population of ASD individuals moving past their 21st birthday? If they have not already dropped out of traditional school, they reach the end of that stage of education ... and graduate to ... ??

... and that's the problem. Over 20 years ago, I started into my work with the ASD population by working with adolescents and young adults in a high school program that aimed to take students from school to work. We did communication and social skills training on the job sites, and educational assistants doubled as job coaches with back-up from teachers and other professionals. A number of students ended up with job placements that lasted past graduation. At that time I was an optimistic young speech pathologist, knowing that this was a great new program, and believing it would only expand and become more accessible and effective over the years to come ... I thought that in 10 years time (and certainly in 20), most young adults on the spectrum would have school to job support and job coaching that would stretch into the years following graduation ... I was wrong. Political changes and cut-backs in the intervening years paired with ever-increasing numbers of identified ASD students have led to available resources being totally over-whelmed, with new resources few and far between. Good-hearted and good-intentioned professionals continue to try to fill this gap, but it's a bit like trying to catch a waterfall in a teacup.

A friend within the local autism community (a mom of a young adult with AS) sent me the link for this story that appeared in the New York Times this past weekend:

Youths with autism prepare for a place in an adult world

The story follows a young man with autism who is reaching the end of his time in a school program, similar to the one I worked in years ago, that aims to prepare teens with ASD for adult life (including employment and independence). This young man has artistic talents, but it's unclear whether family and program staff will be able to help him find a job (that he can keep) where he can use his talent and make a living.

The challenges faced by Justin (the young adult in the NY Times article) are all too familiar to professionals who work with the young adult (and older adult) ASD population and their families. Young adults with ASD don't disappear when they walk out of the school doors at age 21. They are smart people who need to keep learning, who need to have an outlet for their talents and skills, who need the opportunity to live as independently as they are able; and the families need help to have this happen.

In my opinion, the boundaries of the problem stretch beyond what can be offered by public services alone. I think effective solutions will require a creative re-thinking of how individual people and businesses can open their doors and integrate these very talented and unusual people into the fabric of society ... and how to make that happen is what I've been thinking about this fall ... the young optimistic therapist still lives inside me, and I think it can be done ... stay tuned, and I'll let you know if I get any good ideas.

..... some social humour from one of my engineering brothers

Well, I make my family read my blog (I'm not too proud to use the social pressure of familial obligation to increase my readership). In response to yesterday's post on socializing and the engineering slant on life, one of my brothers sent me the link to this youtube video ... an informational description of the construction of a pop song .... he found it funny, I found it funny, it may or may not tickle your funny bone, but here's the link so you can see (hope this works):

daVinci's Notebook - title of the song

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=734wnHnnNR4

To socialize or not to socialize .... that is the question

Many of the people who choose to work in the "helping" and teaching professions are very out-going, chatty and sociable people. Usually this works to everyone's advantage as most jobs in these fields involve friendly interactions and discussions with many different people over the space of a work-day. Over time, "folk wisdom" in the therapy/teaching sphere has formed an image of what "normal" social behaviour looks like ... and it looks a lot like the chatty interactive social style of the extroverted people who dominate these professions. Programs that are set up to teach social skills often have the goal that participants will eventually match this "norm".

But maybe that's not what's normal for everyone. If you're working with people on the autism spectrum, perhaps a better "target" social style is embodied by an engineer or a scientist or a math major. I know (and like) many engineers ... my dad, my brothers, my brother-in-law, my uncle, not to mention all the engineering and computer guys I meet in the course of a work day ... and while engineer stereotypes are over-simplifications, they also hold a fair chunk of "real-world" truth. The best thing about engineering humour (of the printable kind) is that the engineers enjoy it as much as anyone (although their comment is more likely to be "well of course, that makes sense"). Here is a comment on engineers and social interaction that I think fits this discussion:

"Engineers have different objectives when it comes to social interaction. "Normal" people expect to accomplish several unrealistic things from social interaction: stimulating and thought-provoking conversation, important social contacts, a feeling of connectedness with other humans. In contrast to "normal" people, engineers have rational objectives for social interactions: get it over with as soon as possible, avoid getting invited to something unpleasant, demonstrate mental superiority and mastery of all subjects."  www.engineeringhumor.com

 Does this sound like anyone you know?

a quick sketch I made for one of my teen clients

to explain the term "breaking the ice"

 

The teen-age years are excruciating for many of us ... for those who are struggling with the social side of life, they can become unbearable. Many teens with a diagnosis of AS become weary of their lack of social success and retreat to their rooms, pessimistic about their chances of having a rewarding and enjoyable social interaction, no longer willing to risk public social rejection. They don't want to be labeled, they don't want to go to a "special" group, they don't want to have their social errors highlighted and corrected in public ... they just want to have a friend to spend some time with when they're in the mood for company.

I have run a variety of social skills groups for the ASD population over the last 20+ years. In 2003, we started the Typical Teens groups for adolescents with a diagnosis of Asperger's Syndrome.

for more specific information about this program

go to www.autismandtheartofcommunication.com 

(clickable link on the homepage)

The cornerstone of this group model is the inclusion of trained peer mentors - in my experience, it is almost impossible to create an authentic social situation if no one in the group (besides the person running it) has intact social skills. Peers act as models of "usual" teen-aged behaviour, and create a safe "social bubble" where the AS teens can take social risks without risking public embarrassment. Our peer mentors are chosen to model a mixture of social styles - relaxed jokers, quieter bookish kids, sporty active guys, eccentric intellectuals, social butterflies. The facilitators work at arms-length, helping each person to find their social match(es). It is always interesting to watch the transformation of the AS teens over the 8 week sessions - as their (reasonable) social anxiety is counter-acted by new positive social experiences, they start to relax, to smile and laugh and obviously enjoy the company of their peers.

Which is, of course, the point of a social skills group - to find your own personal brand of "social mojo" - to actually begin to enjoy social interaction and be convinced of the benefits. The group therapy model is well suited to supported experiential learning - "hands on" practice of social skills in a "real world" setting with back-up. Feedback from past group participants (and their families) tells us that many of the social changes we see in this model carry over into their daily lives after the group is done.

(In my professional experience, de-constructing social errors in painful detail to pin-point the exact moment of social disintegration is more of a private activity (one ASD person, one support person) - I doubt than many of us would happily agree to share our most excruciating social failures with "the group".)

Of all of the evaluations we've had from participants over the years, the following comments by an AS teen participant are my favourite endorsement of the Typical Teens model:

 "Well, being with other people isn't as bad, isn't as boring, and isn't as a waste of time as it may seem ... it's still pretty interesting in a different way ... and it was enjoyable. I would recommend these groups because it would help develop other people's social skills and their understanding that company is a good thing and that being with others is quite worthwhile"

.... an engineer's perspective if I ever heard one ... but a happy engineer who is convinced that there is a point to the exercise ...

Anxiety and panic in a world of uncertain events

Everyone feels anxious sometimes, but not all of us get the heart-stopping "grab you around the throat" can't breathe can't think panic state that can be a daily event for people with autism. One of the characteristics that I share with people on the spectrum is a tendency towards stress and anxiety whenever events are not predictable - over the years I have developed many strategies to deal with this part of my personality, to the point that only those closest to me have any real idea of my great discomfort with chaos and uncertainty (my husband likes to point out that future events can actually never be predicted with accuracy, but I don't really like to think about that).

This past weekend, I had an experience that triggered a sudden and intense "all the wheels fall off" level of panic that took me by surprise. We were camping and my family had spent the day kayaking and hiking. When the storm clouds boiled up behind us and the thunder started, we were still several lakes away from our campsite, with no obvious good choices for safe harbour to wait out the storm ...



... another roll of thunder and a glance over my shoulder, and the switch flicked ... instantaneously panic ruled while the thinking part of my brain fled to parts unknown. According to my husband (who has a gift for images), my eyes rolled up into my head like Black Beauty and I started paddling like a windmill taking us in no particular direction. A dying whisper of logic told me I wasn't making us safer, but I couldn't stop.

In retrospect, I can tell you what happened inside my head. Because we have lost one of our children, my greatest fear is that something bad will happen to one of my other children or their spouses/partners or my husband. At that moment, everyone near and dear to me was bobbing about in small boats on an electrical conductor (water) with lightning on the horizon and winds rising (the thunderstorms have been spectacular this summer)  ... no available solutions, no way to know if there was going to be a good ending ... and so: panic, can't think, can't breathe.

Most people can recall a situation that caused them this level of anxiety and panic - the memories stand out because they are unusual. But for people with ASD, this state is unfortunately too common. Many behavioural and emotional outbursts are rooted in the anxiety caused by events moving swiftly and unpredictably, with catastrophic endings always a very real possibility. Difficulty with "reading" other people, with understanding verbal language, with being able to express thoughts/feelings all combine to make usual stress reduction strategies ineffective ("talk it through with a trusted friend" doesn't really work out) - even highly verbal individuals find that their language and logic skills desert them in this state. The more "unknowns" in any given situation, the higher the stress/anxiety and the greater the possibility of an unthinking panicked response.

drawing by Adam

Drawing is a strategy that works well to reduce panic and anxiety in the daily life of ASD individuals - sitting down with a big piece of paper after a blow-out, drawing out the various pieces of what happened and connecting them together, filling in the "missing" pieces (thoughts and perspectives of others, what people meant by the words that they said, facial expressions and voice tone), hearing the perspective and thoughts of the person with ASD (what did they think was happening? what did they fear?). Then using this information to make a plan for "next time" - identifying "choice points" (where the string of events could have been changed), defining the available choices, making a plan A & B & C, identifying "safety people" (who will know what to do to help) - basically, you're putting together concrete visual information to fill in as many "unknowns" as possible, to help the person do the thinking ahead of time so that when the panic hits there is a logical workable plan to access.

These strategies are not 100%, but they do work to bring the frequency of panicked situations down to a more usual level. There are always going to be times when you're stuck in a small boat in the middle of a lake in a thunderstorm, but it won't be every day (or multiple times each day) - and if you've built up your "street cred" by regularly helping the ASD person to find workable solutions to seemingly unsolvable daily problems, they may trust you in that unusual situation when you ask them to just put their heads down and paddle for the beach.

... which is what we ended up doing (head down, around the point and the around the next one, storm veered left and we veered right) ... and thanks to my husband for talking me back from the edge!

The right to be different

My mom tells me that I started out as a very quiet child -  so quiet that had I been born in this era, rather than in the 1950's, I would no doubt have been in a specialist's office with a diagnosis pending by the age of 2. I talked late - barely babbled, didn't try out words, was a silent presence in the room until the age of 2 and a half when I suddenly started to speak in sentences (according to my mom, my first words were "I want a cheese sandwich please" during lunch at a neighbour's house).

I was an eccentric little person, always thinking much more than I spoke, and expressing odd thoughts when I did speak - when I was 5, I "cracked the code" of reading one day and could suddenly read everything I looked at (I still remember how cool this was - one of the great joyful days of my life). I grew up in the country, and loved the freedom I had to disappear into the ravine, climb a tree and let my thoughts run for hours without interference from other people's questions and demands (as long as we showed up for meals, it was all good). When I went to school, people did start to categorize and test, but my parents kept me unaware of those discussions - I was talking at that point, and I could "do" school, so I got to be "gifted", a label that allowed me to be as different as I wanted and no-one would tell me I had to conform.

This is not exactly fair, is it? If my diagnosis had been "autism" instead, I would not have been given the freedom to develop and learn in the way that best suits my brain "flavour" - not allowed to choose when to socialize and when to retreat from the world of people, not allowed the quiet and solitude I needed to think my thoughts through to the end. People would have assumed that I was thinking nothing when I stared off into space for long periods of time, not responding to the words of other people (by the way, I still do this, to the great hilarity of my husband and sons). My strong (obsessive?) interests in favourite topics or activities, my "stair step" development of skills like talking and reading, my high stress in situations with too many unknowns would all be taken as further indicators of my oddity. Well-meaning therapists would set out to "fix" me. I would hate that.

All good therapy starts with respect for and knowledge of the individual who is the "target" of that therapy. People with autism think a lot more than they speak. Their optimal learning style may be nothing like a "usual" or "average" learning style, but what's so great about "average"? We put too much stock into "developmental norms", which are nothing more than population averages - no real person looks like a statistical "norm" - when we average out development, we lose all the interesting bits.

drawn by Adam, age 17

When we focus on bringing people with autism back to the "norm", we can unintentionally give them the message that who they are and what they're thinking and saying is not acceptable. Communication provides a bridge between the "average" world and the slightly more "unusual" world of autism - if parents and teachers are willing to hear what is really said and teach to the differences, the result can be learning on both sides of the equation. Different doesn't mean "wrong", it just means "different" .... and different can be pretty cool.